“Count, Cassidy,” Ashley hissed. She had her fingers locked together, ready to grab Ava’s—our flyer’s—foot in the hold.
“What?” I blinked. “Right. Sorry.” I clasped my hands together, too. I realized I’d lost track of whether the Oilers were winning or losing in the game behind us. “Five, six…” Ava gripped my shoulder. “Seven, eight.”
The soles of Ava’s sneaker found my hand. I bent my knees and rocketed her into the air. Her body went rigid. I watched her from my vantage point on the ground as she held up the sign. Days ago, I’d felt renewed strength coursing through me. Today, my arms felt flimsier than cooked spaghetti.
Holding Ava’s foot in one hand, I turned out and thrust my fist into the air at an angle. I held the pose and recited the lines of the cheer. My enthusiasm was bleeding out. I couldn’t focus.
Just a little bit longer. I watched Ava closely. It was time for the catch. I felt the pressure on my hand as she bent her knees. She jumped and touched her toes. A shooting pain split through the center of my skull and cracked open the camera-eye view in which trickles of red streamed down a boy’s face like a sad, violent Harlequin doll.
“No!” I screamed, and jerked away reflexively.
But gravity worked fast. Ava was free-falling. Her dark hair trailed her like fluttering streamers. One foot nailed Ashley in the mouth. As she stumbled back, Ava’s other foot hit the floor at an unnatural angle. There was a sickening crack and she crumpled on the gym floor. A collective gasp sounded from the crowd. A whistle blew and the sneakers behind us stopped screeching.
I turned to see the basketball clutched at Liam’s side. The whole team stared. On the ground, Ava was writhing. Her thigh bone jutted out in a way that it shouldn’t. A thick bulge showed a sharp split in the bone of her leg. My stomach churned.
I glanced wildly at Ashley. She was hunkered over. Blood poured into her cupped hand. Erica’s arm was already wrapped around her back. Ashley’s red mouth worked and then she spit a tooth into her palm.
The weight of the entire gymnasium’s stares bore down on me. “I—I’m sorry.” My voice was paper-thin. “I didn’t mean to—”
Faceless adults began rushing onto the courtside. I took a step back. Then another. And another. I turned my back and I ran. My shoulder crashed through the double doors and I sprinted through the halls of Hollow Pines High until, half-blind with panic, I found the exit and fell gulping for oxygen into the fresh air.
I crouched in the fetal position outside where my knuckles pushed against the concrete. What was happening to me? What was wrong with me?
Oh god.
I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that the earth would either swallow me whole or self-destruct.
“Cassidy?” Liam’s voice came from behind me. It now seemed a lifetime ago that I would have swooned at the mere mention of my name on his lips.
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and stood up. “What?” The word scratched my throat.
“I figured someone needed to check on you, too.”
“Don’t you have a game to play?”
Sweat glistened off his arms. “We’re taking a brief intermission.” He flashed me the same lopsided grin that had managed to sneak through my walled-up defenses that night at the party when all I’d wanted was to be alone. Didn’t he realize that he was intruding again? “While we wait for the ambulance to arrive.”
I grimaced. I tried to imagine myself through his eyes. Did he wonder what had happened to Cassidy Hyde the Homecoming queen? Or did he think that he had it all figured out?
“It’s not like she’s going to die, you know,” he said. “Ava’s too big to be a flyer anyway.”
“That’s not true,” I mumbled.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. In the distance, I thought I could hear sirens.
“Do you have any on you?” I peered up at him, forlorn. I hadn’t taken it last night. I hadn’t taken it and it hadn’t helped. What more did I have to lose? The answer felt like a resounding nothing.
“Cassidy…” He ran his hand over his face.
“Do you?” Here was Liam, temptation staring me right in the face and I wasn’t sure I cared enough anymore to resist. He didn’t answer. I took that as a yes. “Please,” I said.
“Last night—”
“I don’t care about last night.” I shook my head. “It’s been a really shitty day. I’m asking you, as a friend.” Which was a lie because as of this moment, I didn’t have any friends.
He reached into the top of his sock and extracted a recognizable, clear plastic baggie with two pale yellow pills inside.
My heart performed a stutter step.
I licked my lips and eyed the tablets, tantalized. “I’ll pay you later, I promise.”